Shopping Trip
by cmr2014
Summary: Hell, thy name is grocery shopping.


DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

 **Shopping Trip**

"I knew it!" Meryl Stryfe griped. "I just knew I should have kicked your butt into gear so we could leave early! Now it's past noon and just look at this place!" She waved an arm at the crowded parking lot. "We'll be forever finding a spot, and I don't want to think what the lines are like inside."

"Just think of it as a chance to spend time together," her husband pointed out. Vash the Stampede was happy just to be with Meryl on an occasion where their lives weren't at risk.

"All I can think of is what a hassle this is going to be. Honestly, Vash, if you think a gunfight is bad, just wait until you get inside and try shopping in December. And I'm worried about Milly back home, all alone with Knives."

"She'll be fine, no worry. Knives is halfway civilized by now, and if he starts getting twitchy, all she has to do is point her stun gun his way."

He chuckled at the memory of what had happened before they left.

" _Now pay close attention to this melon, Mr. Knives," Milly said._

 _She stepped back several paces, hefted her stun gun, and let fly a projectile whose momentum took the melon with it and pulverized it against the wall, soft pulp and juice running down._

" _Just imagine that melon as your head if you decide to misbehave," Milly said cheerily._

"Even if she's got things under control, it still irks me that – damn!" Meryl swore as a spot she had been waiting for, signal and everything, was stolen by a car that swooped in just as she began to turn in.

Vash reached over and locked her door just as she started to open it. "Deep breath. Forget that guy and look for another spot. It still irks you that…"

Meryl gritted her teeth, but took a deep breath and continued her train of thought. "It irks me that we have to come all the way to December on a supply run for things that should have been in stock back home. Then we get here and have to sit and wait around for our order to get filled, and we'll probably have to rent a truck to take it back, and in the meantime we're just sitting around and going shopping for food just to not starve. It's all a big waste of time and money, and I swear to God the Chief had better comp me for these receipts or I'm going to go – you damned fool, would you learn how to drive in a parking lot?" she yelled as they were nearly clipped.

"It can't really be helped," Vash noted. "Supplies are tight everywhere this year, and cities yell louder than our little village can. It's the way of people, I think – cities get bigger, villages get smaller."

"It still sucks!"

"True, but what's the alternative?"

"This!" Meryl said aggressively as she swiped a parking spot. "Sucks to be you," she said in the rearview mirror at the driver who was shaking his fist angrily. "Let's get this over with."

"I hope that guy doesn't come back and key our rental," Vash said idly as they headed inside. "We don't need an extra charge."

Meryl took a cart someone had left propped on a curb. "I'm not worried about him, I'm worried about what's ahead of us. Get ready to fight."

Meryl wasn't kidding; the store was almost overflowing with people, each person after what they were after and prioritizing themselves over everyone else. The air was filled with the noise and hustle and bustle and Vash spotted several kids learning how to swear from listening to their parents. It looked like some fisticuffs were going on over fresh lettuce at the other end of the store.

He shrugged. "I still say this is better than a gunfight."

"That's because you don't have to do this regularly," Meryl told him. "Stick close to me, I don't want to get separated. It could be days before we found each other again. See if there's any dry goods on the list, we hit those before the cold stuff."

Vash pulled out the list of groceries they needed. "We're not making pancakes while we're here, so no need for anything for that. Do we want biscuits?"

Meryl swerved around an oblivious shopper who was blocking the aisle while adoring herself in a full-length mirror (available for the LOW LOW LOW price of only $$99). "Huh? Oh, um, no, we'll have plenty of biscuits to make back home when we get our blasted goods and get back there. Do you want sandwiches?"

"Why not?"

Narrowly avoiding a collision with someone making the same turn from the opposite direction, Meryl cranked the cart hard right into the sandwich goods aisle. "Grab some peanut butter. Put that smooth back, grab the chunky! Now the jam – that's blueberry, not grape! Now, grab that bread – not that one, the other – ow!" Someone had bumped into her rear with their cart. "Will you watch where you're aiming that thing?"

"Will you know what you're shopping for?" the other person snarled, going on their way.

Vash grabbed Meryl's hand as it was reaching into her cape and put a loaf of bread in it. "Here you go."

She scowled at him for playing the role of better angel, but checked to make sure the bread was the kind she was after and put it in the cart. Somebody had decided they didn't want a hammer from the hardware section and left it in this aisle. Meryl scooped that up, too.

"What's that for?" Vash asked suspiciously. Meryl's temper and hammers were not known to mix well.

"A little thing I learned the last time I was here. Just wait. So, we've got the fixings for sandwiches. Think that takes care of the dry stuff for our time here?"

"Sure," her husband replied. "Do we need any canned goods?"

"Probably some canned milk, maybe some condensed soup. Come on."

It was in the canned goods that Vash discovered what the hammer was for. "See this?" Meryl held up a dented can, and he nodded.

"Cans like this are half off."

Each can she picked up, she hit with the hammer, causing a dent, then put it in the cart. "Don't look at me like that, Vash."

"You're usually so ethical," he commented with a shake of his head.

"This is no time for ethics," she snapped. "I have to justify all my costs, and the less money my life with you costs, the less chance I have of getting fired. Ethics don't pay the bills."

"You know," Vash said with a smile as they headed for the cold goods, "I do like life with you, employed or not."

Meryl snorted in derision. "Probably don't like me so much right now."

"I like you as much now as I always do."

Meryl ducked a can of frozen orange juice thrown in another dispute over who would get what. "And why is that?"

Keeping pace with her, Vash brushed back a lock of hair. "Because you're beautiful when you're angry."

Meryl couldn't help but smile, a blush starting to creep over her cheeks. "You have the sweetest lines. You're full of crap, but you really are a sweetheart. Damn it!" She was jerked out of the nice moment as a wheel wobble caused the cart to veer off course into a display case, prompting Vash to just grin and shake his head.

He realized, as he watched someone being drop-kicked over a case of beer, that their shopping trip was a long way from over. It was a good thing he meant it when he said she was beautiful when she was angry; there was going to be a lot of beauty in the immediate future.


End file.
